


A Painful Goodbye

by a_renee



Category: I Brought You My Bullets You Brought Me Your Love - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Romance, Short One Shot, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:22:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28119141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_renee/pseuds/a_renee
Summary: He woke up to his other half facing certain death. How do you deal with a corpse in this bed?Ngl I cried when I wrote this lol anyhoo enjoy it's based on the album's song: Early Sunsets Over Monroeville. I hope you enjoy reading it.
Kudos: 1





	A Painful Goodbye

He had woken up at the sound of crying. He usually never slept in while they’re away from a safe spot, but he was groggier this morning from the lack of food in his stomach. He would often tell her to stay inside their temporary hideout while he’d look around every corner, survey every window, and shoot anything that’s groaning, walking, and supposed to be dead. Though today, she did the perimeter check, and at this moment, he was wishing to god that she hadn’t.

They were looking for people who were still alive or trapped, but they weren’t counting on getting lost in the big suburban neighborhoods or the winding roads. When he and she went on these missions, they always packed enough food. Except, this time they went too far. He remembered pushing her to go forward, despite her admitting she thinks they should go back. Stubborn as always, he urged her to keep going with him by saying they could go on. When the sunset was upon them, they stumbled upon an old community called Monroeville and decided they’d camp at an abandoned house. Thinking about that moment made him wish to god that he hadn’t gone so far. 

He snapped back to the present. A few feet away sat a pile of canned goods she had found. In the corner farthest from him was her. She was pushing herself into the wall with a blood-soaked rag wrapped around her arm. The boy didn’t even think of his hunger as he raced for the first aid kit that was next to the two-person sleeping bag. He could tell the worst had come when she was shaking like a dog, her eyes bloodshot from tears, and snot was dripping down her face. Her brown hair was in a messy ponytail. A few hairs slipped away and clung to her face through the tears.

“How many minutes do you have left,” he half begged half asked. When a person was bit by a zombie, they had an hour before they fell asleep and slipped away from the living. They looked dead, however, five minutes after that, they would come back as a zombie. 

The bite was a grotesque image. The bleeding appeared to have stopped, but there were still bloodstains on a torn-up shirt and gauze which acted as a makeshift bandage. Pus was beginning to collect and settle around the dried blood, creating a disgusting smell once the bite was closer to him. He cleaned the wound, put antiseptic on it even though he knew it wouldn’t do anything, and wrapped it up with gauze and tape.

“Thirty minutes,” she barely managed to shamefully croak out through hiccups and sobs. He looked into her deep, wet eyes and carefully took her into his arms. He smoothed her hair and held her as if she was made of glass. He tried so desperately to keep his strong front for her, but tears spilled out of his eyes and tore down his facade.

As they sat in the darkness before dawn, he thought about how they came to be as one. He met her long ago, in high school. The girl had helped him when she saw his 52% next to her 97% in the class. He’d joke occasionally, teasing her for trying to help a lost cause. In the end, he barely passed with the skin on his teeth and took his C minus. It was her optimism that made him fall in love with her. Unlike him, she always had faith that if they tried hard enough, they could make it. He truly valued and appreciated her optimism once shit hit the fan.

He thought about the stolen canned food they took from abandoned grocery stores to stay alive. He thought of how they protected themselves with an emergency fire ax and some kitchen knives that were from their old apartment. They kept each other alive long enough for an exploration group to find them and bring them to their current community. He remembered how she was able to strike a conversation with anyone. Her kindness was like a warmth she shared with everyone. He remembered the night she suggested they become rescuers explaining that she wanted to help others like they were helped. Despite his concern, he could never tell her no.

Suddenly, he was filled with a sense of regret. Her life was about to end and he was thinking about all the things he wished he did more. He wished that he held her more in the years that they had been together. He wished he told her how beautiful her singing was. To him, she was lovelier than the birds. In the face of all their hardships, she was his calm and steady rock. 

Finally, he faced the facts of what he had to do. As her partner, he was supposed to be the one to inject a dark liquid called Bella Muerte straight into her bloodstream. From there, she’d drift away into the unknown before she ever had a chance to be one of the walking dead. It was crucial that you did it before they turned, or else it wouldn’t work. He didn’t want to see her wake up as the shell of someone he once loved. He knew it was a mercy killing, but the syringe felt heavy as he filled it with the serum and thought of all he was going to miss about her. He briefly recalled learning about the origin of its name. The community members said that, when the people passed on, they were so calm it was almost beautiful. As the dark fluid swirled in the syringe, he felt immeasurable anger at them for romanticizing death. 

“I love you,” he tried to say, but he was scared and sadder than ever at the idea of being alone after years of being with his other half. A voice crack gave away his pain. 

The woman noticed his agony and caressed his face with the unharmed arm. “I love you too. Keep good care of yourself. Don’t you dare die,” she sniffed. He felt ashamed at that moment for being the one that was comforted when she needed it more. She locked eyes with him and he was drawn in like a magnet. His heart was racing and tears threatened to spill again from his eyes. In the softest voice, he heard her say: “Hold me while I fall asleep, okay?”

This broke the paper mache wall he had put up for her. The tears that were barely being held back were now cascading down. It blurred his vision and he wiped them away with his sleeve. With a clearer sight, he held the syringe to her vein and could only give her a nod to her request. He wasn’t ready to let go and the count down had caught itself in his throat. In the end, she was the one who counted down from three to one and he was forced to give her the serum. The last thing he saw from her was her giving him his favorite smile.

Keeping his word, he held her closer and than he ever had, as if holding on would keep her from her fate. She fell into unconsciousness before the rise and fall of her chest came to a stop. As the last breath of air left her lips, he felt his last bit of strength leave him. He slumped back against the wall with a corpse now in his arms.


End file.
